


Fractured Fairy Lights

by WhatSoMalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Eve, Community: Dramione FanFiction Forum, Dark Magic, F/M, Fairy Lights, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Past Draco Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson, Post-Hogwarts, The Slytherin Cabal's Twistmas 2020, creature mutilation, dark!fic, gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:46:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27843973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatSoMalfoy/pseuds/WhatSoMalfoy
Summary: Newly engaged, Draco comes up with a new Christmas tradition to spend every Christmas Eve with his friends, each taking turns to host. Hermione is on board, knowing they spend too little time with the Slytherins. However, this first year, it's Pansy's turn to host the dinner and not all is as it seems.
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 20
Kudos: 36
Collections: Twistmas 2020 - A Dark Remix Xmas Fest





	Fractured Fairy Lights

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Twistmas2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Twistmas2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Fairy Lights
> 
> Thank you to The Slytherin Cabal and Dramione Fanfiction Forum for hosting this fest. This is my first ever dark fic and it was sadistically fun to write! A big thank you to Besmirchedmaiden for stepping in for my regular Alphabet whom I have overloaded with other content. Your thoughts have directed this fic in ways you're too kind to admit. I love you, girl! Thank you!
> 
> TW: creature mutilation

Draco sighed and rolled over in bed. He flung his hand out, searching the empty bed for his new fiancée. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes to the warm afternoon sunshine. _Fucking deceptive ball of light_ , he thought. Despite all appearances, he knew just how cold it was outside his warm walls. Where was she? Draco thought he might fancy another round. Maybe she would too?

"Granger?" He called out groggily, sleep still clogging his brain.

Hermione didn't reply, but stuck her head out of the ensuite bathroom door, clad in a bathrobe with a makeup brush in her hand and half of her face covered in her Muggle products.

"You really should get out of bed, Draco. We're supposed to be at Pansy's house in an hour."

Draco slumped back against the pillows. He reached for one of hers and covered his face with it. Hermione padded over to him and removed it.

"You're going to hate it there, you know?" He warned her.

"I think that's probably a given. Pansy and I get along pretty much as we always have, which is really not at all. I think she's finally come around to the idea of us getting married. Now if we can get Theo and Blaise to stop with their indecent commentary and insinuations on our sex life, I might find myself actually very attached to them. Come on, out of bed. We both know how long it takes you to do your hair!"

"My friends aren’t going to be the only problem tonight, Granger. The Parkinson’s do things a little uh, what's that term you always use? Old school. That's it. You might be, er, somewhat shocked at the way they live and celebrate Christmas."

"Spending Christmas Eve with your friends was your idea, Draco. As much as I loathe Pansy, don't try and scare me out of it now that I’m committed. I'm looking forward to all of the other traditions we can make over the years."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he grumbled, throwing back the covers and heading for the bathroom. 

As he showered, Hermione cast a charm to keep the mirror from fogging up. Over the last few years, Hermione had found small amounts of time to focus on herself, on the things that made her happy. Strangely, one of those things had been makeup. She found peace during the application and satisfaction with the results. The precision required to make every line and brushstroke across her face relaxed her. 

"You know you could achieve all of that with a thirty-second glamour spell?" Draco asked her for possibly the one-hundredth time.

"Yes, but this calms me and helps me focus," she replied, picking up a palette of eyeshadow. 

Half an hour later, she joined him in their bedroom as he was pulling on some pants. Hermione flicked through her side of the wardrobe, noticeably smaller than his until she found the long-sleeved, mid-length, satin emerald green dress that she had been saving for the occasion. Draco did a double-take.

"Is that what you're planning on wearing tonight? Are you trying to kill me? I won't think of anything else all evening, except ripping it off your body! Slytherin fucking green!"

Hermione grinned devilishly at him, letting the bathrobe fall from her shoulders to reveal the barely-there, matching in colour bra and knicker set she had recently bought to go underneath. 

"Fuck me," Draco groaned. "You _are_ trying to kill me. The sorting hat got it wrong! You're far more Slytherin than Gryffindor and green looks way too good on you."

"Green is for Christmas Eve, Draco. Red is for Christmas Day. Don't go thinking that this is something more than it is. But if you play your cards right tonight, maybe I'll let you open your Christmas present early," she winked, parting her thighs slightly before stepping into the dress. Draco swallowed loudly. She was a minx. One that would keep him on his toes for the rest of their lives — but he wouldn't have it any other way. 

He thought of the night that brought them together. She’d been absolutely dazzling at an otherwise extremely tiresome party. Once his eyes had seen and devoured her, all those years after Hogwarts, he knew he’d donate to whatever cause the party had been for just to have her by his side. Lost in his memories, her voice brought him back to the present.

"Now be a dear, and zip me up will you?"

* * *

Draco and Hermione arrived with a crack at the bottom of a gorgeous, yet dark gravel road. Giant trees surrounded them on either side, blocking the sun and its warmth from view. A large and imposing black, curling wrought-iron gate stood before them, surrounding an impressive estate. 

"Welcome to the Parkinson Manor," Draco looked down at his fiancée. The expression on his face was more of a grimace than a welcoming smile. "Inside these halls are terrors and memories best left in the past, but I'm sure more than one will come back to haunt us tonight!"

Hermione swatted him on the arm as they passed through the gates as if made of mist. "It's Christmas, Draco, not Halloween. And for the record, I would like to state here and now that I do _not_ need to hear about how a House-Elf nearly caught you and Pansy going at it behind a topiary, ok? The last thing I need is to give her another reason to remind me that she was your first."

Draco was grimacing for sure now. He sucked in a deep breath. 

"Merlin, I don't need to be reminded of those days, either. Let's just leave all of that here at the gate. Pansy is much more interested in Theo these days, anyway, now that you're around. Let's just see if we can steer them together tonight, yes?"

"Draco Malfoy, the Matchmaker. Who knew? We could get you your own reality television show."

"A what?"

"Never mind," Hermione said, the heel of her stiletto catching in the gravel. Draco gripped her arm tightly and pulled her to his side to steady her.

"Forget your stability charms?"

"Maybe," Hermione admitted, casting them on her feet now and adding a cushioning spell for good measure. She sucked in a breath and held it for several moments as she took in the home that Pansy lived in. She had to wonder about all those school rumours of Pansy only being interested in Draco for his money. Clearly, she had enough of her own and didn't need anything from Hermione's fiancé except for his love, which according to Draco, he never could give her. 

Despite their sexual past, Draco insisted that he had always been clear with the dark-haired vixen that he didn't harbour any romantic feelings and doubted that he ever would. Even so, Pansy had been unabashed in her pursuit of him until Hermione had come on the scene. 

When Hermione had first started seeing Draco, Pansy had been nigh-on insufferable. Pansy knew exactly how to surf the lines between offensive and sarcastic. Full of back-handed compliments, needling you in a way you couldn’t put your finger on until it was too late. She would insert herself into any scenario she could, often attempting to _physically_ come between Draco and Hermione. She frequently took any chance she could to remind Hermione that she and Draco had shared a very explicit relationship in years gone past and how there was a pressing familial expectation that they would end up married. ‘Insufferable’ seemed like an understatement to Hermione. Plus, the witch was just dark. She had never seemed to move on from their school days and still held every Slytherin code to her chest. She was corrupt, baseless, and just downright foul to the core. 

Suddenly, Hermione was unsure of just how good of an idea this evening truly was, but as Draco squeezed her hand, she was reminded of his warmth, and she was comforted. The walk up the gravel drive was long, and she had time to ponder her relationship with him. The good, the bad, and how they’d started.

It had been years since she had seen him last, but when her eyes landed on Draco at that dull Ministry event, it had been another nail in her coffin that night — or so she had thought. That was until she noticed how he had grown since school and once she had noted that his hair was no longer so slicked back, his face had lost its sharpness, and his shoulders had filled out — well. It had just been a matter of time until she started to notice other things, too. How he seemed to be less of a snob. Certainly, he was no longer a blood-purist, and most damning of all — he had been funny. That night, he had seemingly noticed something different about her, too, though she was still unsure of what. Maybe it was the lack of the loose-fitting school uniform, for that was the only difference she saw in herself since their days at Hogwarts.

"Are you ready for this?" He breathed against her neck, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

"Probably more than you are," she teased.

"Hmmm," he hummed and tapped his wand against the door.

Not a minute later, the door was opened wide for them. Light, warmth and something delicious smelling greeted them along with a small House Elf with drooping ears, who led them inside. 

"May Gally takes your coats and gloves?" He asked politely, his voice shaking just slightly. They handed over their garments and waited as the Elf vanished them with a snap of his fingers. "This way, mister Malfoy, sir. Miss Hermione. Mistress Pansy is expecting you in the library."

"Oooh, the library!" Hermione clapped her hands once, delighted.

Draco offered her a hesitant smile and squeezed her hand tightly. No matter the circumstances, a library was always sure to pick up Hermione's spirits.

Hermione looked up and around, taking in her surroundings as they were shown the way to the library. Tall ceilings were decorated with murals to rival Michelangelo. Portraits hung off of elegantly decorated walls, the cornice work was elaborate, and the floors were marble. Beautiful little Christmas baubles hung in tasteful clusters and fairy lights winked high above her head. The Christmas vibe was magical and lovely. Hermione had no idea what Draco had been so concerned about.

"It's beautiful in here," she commented as her heels clicked against the stone. "I love their fairy lights. Look at the way they wink in and out of existence. So pretty!"

A glance at her face showed that Hermione appeared to be genuine. He let it pass without further incident. Draco needed the night to go smoothly, and he wanted to get her home in a good mood. He knew exactly what she was hiding under that sexy dress, and he wanted to put it all to good use.

Finally, they entered the lavish library, and Hermione felt her breath taken from her. It was everything she could have hoped for. Books, magic and Christmas all rolled into one. A huge Christmas tree stood loud and proud in the centre of the multi-level library. Golden balustrades and winding staircases led to higher levels. Every wall was full of bookshelves. The different categories displayed their books organised by colour, which was very pleasing to the eye. As Hermione looked around the room, she felt joy bubbling inside of her. She wondered if Pansy would let her come back one day to explore further. However, there was an irritating flicker of light in the corner. It beckoned to her and irritated her eyes at the same time. Draco seemed to pay it no mind, so Hermione let her attention wander back to the elegant, sexy and deceptive woman walking towards them.

"Draco, Granger, you're here! And right on time. How was the walk up the drive?" Pansy purred.

"Just as delightful as ever," Draco replied with a quirk of his eyebrow, bending low to kiss Pansy once on each cheek.

"Granger, I simply adore your dress. Who knew you could look so good? And in Slytherin Green?"

"Thank you, Pansy,” Hermione smiled thinly. “It's actually more of a Christmas Green. But I appreciate the compliment, anyway. Merry Christmas," Hermione continued, most definitely _not_ appreciating the compliment. Yet, ever gracious, she offered her own. "Your house is just wonderful, and this room. I could die happy right now!"

Pansy simpered, delighted by the praise. "I knew you'd love it in here. I couldn't wait to show it to you. Some things never change, do they?" Pansy eyed Hermione's hand in Draco's and added, "And some things change so drastically, you'd think you'd ended up in Wonderland."

"Wonderland?" Hermione questioned as Pansy led them over to a small bar where an Elf was creating cocktails. "As in; Alice in —?"

"Precisely! _You_ know about Alice?" Pansy could barely keep the surprise from her face.

"Yes, it's a very popular Muggle story -"

"Muggle? Oh, no," Pansy chuckled. "Alice was certainly no _Muggle_ , and neither was Wonderland a fairytale. An ancestor of mine, she is."

"So you've been saying for all these years, Parkinson," Blaise sauntered over, shaking Draco's hand and kissing Hermione lightly on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, to you both!"

"And to you, Blaise," Draco replied. "Really, Pansy. Blaise is right. We've never seen hide nor hair of proof that Alice was your ancestor. Or any evidence that Wonderland was anything more than a bad trip after a dodgy Wormwood cocktail."

Pansy huffed. "It's all true, I swear it. One day when I find the manuscript my Mother shared with me, I'll brandish it in all of your faces!" 

The library doors opened up behind them. "Oh, that must be Theo. If you'll excuse me, I need to greet him." Pansy hurried away to the library entry, her ridiculously high heels clacking on against the floor as she went. 

Blaise and Draco shared a look before they moved along to a plush seating area, where Daphne Greengrass was waiting, champagne flute in hand. 

"Hello, darlings," she greeted. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Daph," Hermione replied with a genuine smile this time. She lowered herself into a seat next to Draco. 

Blaise rejoined his girlfriend on the loveseat and slung an arm around her shoulders.

"Oh, Hermione, I'm dying to see the ring! Show me," Daphne chirped excitedly.

Hermione grinned and extended her left hand towards Daphne so she could see it. Draco and Hermione did not miss the look of sheer panic on Blaise's face as Daphne's lit up on seeing the diamond.

"Oh, Merlin. Just look at it. A radiant cut! It must be what, at least eight carats, right? Look at the clarity! And the colour, oh, what gorgeous stone this is. Absolutely stunning. You're one lucky lady, Granger. Malfoy, his taste in jewellery, _and_ a willingness to actually get down on one knee? You _did_ get down on your knee, didn't you, Draco? Lucky! Congratulations to you both, again."

Blaise visibly grimaced at his girlfriend's words, wincing particularly hard when the word _‘willingness’_ slipped out of her mouth. She flopped back against Blaise again and looked at him pointedly. 

Hermione’s face reflected her pleasure at the praise, and she snuggled into Draco's side, nursing the cocktail the Elf had handed her. She did feel pretty lucky. Daphne was right about that. But the luck she felt had less to do with a ring, proposal, and impending marriage than it did with the man with whom she was sharing it all.

Her friends had been absolutely baffled when she had told them that she had started seeing Draco Malfoy. Ron had laughed, thinking that she was making some sort of dark joke. When Hermione failed to laugh along with him, he had excused himself from the room rather rapidly. Ginny and Harry had taken their time lifting their chins back up off the table, but then the questions had started.

What? When, how, why? Hermione had smiled as she recalled to them the particularly awful Ministry benefit she had been attending and how she had seen Draco there. How she had assumed that the night couldn't possibly get any worse after that. Then, as one of her colleagues re-introduced her to Draco, hoping that Hermione could charm an extra-large donation out of him, how the dull evening had suddenly turned around. 

Back then, Hermione hadn't known where the relationship was going but was eager to find out. Now, two years later, she was enjoying a perfectly civil Christmas Eve gathering with a group of Slytherins whom she had previously loathed, and all of that with an engagement ring on her finger and happiness in her heart.

After a few moments of idle chit chat, Pansy arrived back at the group, her cheeks flushed and Theo by her side. 

"Shall we head on through to the dining room? The Elves are ready to serve the meal," Pansy gushed, her eyes flitting from one guest to another, but always coming back to rest on Theo. 

"Yes, let's," Draco said, standing immediately and offering his hand to his fiancée. Hermione could tell that he was eager to get the evening over with. She squeezed his hand lightly and let him lead the way, Pansy and Theo following closely, and Blaise and Daphne trailing a few paces behind. 

As the small group traipsed through the halls of the Parkinson Manor, Hermione couldn't help but marvel at the lovely Christmas decorations once more. Her eyes were drawn up time and time again to admire the sparkling lights. 

Moments later, Pansy threw open the doors of an opulent dining room, capable of seating far more than their small group of six. They took their seats, wine goblets filling magically and soup bowls appearing in front of them. 

"Mmm, this soup is divine, Pansy," Daphne told her, you simply must have your Elves pass on the recipe to ours."

"Oh, yes," Pansy waved her hand through the air. "I'm sure they will be pleased to do so." Their hostess visibly rippled with pleasure at the praise. 

The meal continued, and soon, Hermione wasn't able to stop herself from asking the question. Setting her cutlery delicately on her plate, Hermione leaned towards Pansy.

"Pansy, I just adore your Christmas decorations—" 

Draco dropped his fork on his plate with a loud clatter, his hand found his way to her thigh, and he squeezed it — hard. Hermione gave him a questioning look before ploughing on.

"The fairy lights, especially. I just can't seem to take my eyes off of them. They're gorgeous!"

"Oh, yes," Pansy simpered. "That's their magic. It draws you in."

"It certainly does," Hermione agreed. Draco's grip on her leg intensified. Hermione pushed it away, her eyebrows drawing together in hurt and confusion. 

"I'd love it if you shared the Charm with me," Hermione continued, ignoring Draco's silent pleas. 

"Charm? Oh, Granger, you are _adorable_ , aren't you? There's no Charm. Unless you count our Hunter — he is _very_ charming!"

"You — your Hunter?" Hermione asked with more than a little confusion.

Draco slumped back in his seat, defeated. Hermione was riveted on Pansy, but felt the tension in the room climb, her companions shifting awkwardly in their seats.

"Yes, Granger, our Hunter. We have one of the _best_ in our employ. They're very rare these days, you know," Pansy prattled on, completely unaware of the mood shift of her dining companions. "We compensate him very generously, and this year more so. He did so well — such a great collection. He was out in Ireland for _months_ to get us this lot!" Pansy said proudly, gesturing to the ceiling.

"I'm sorry, I think I'm a little bit lost," Hermione said, frowning. Something else began to niggle at her conscience. That little glimmer of light in the corner was back again, begging to be peeled away.

"No, Granger, you're not lost," Draco took her hand, gently. "I had hoped you wouldn't notice, that you would be spared from it, but -"

Hermione jumped up from the table so quickly, that her chair fell to the ground with a loud crash. "Do you mean to tell me," she said ferociously, "that those are real Fairies up there? Real Fairies — alive, and strung up? For your pleasure?"

"And she finally gets it," Pansy replied curtly. "Not just for my pleasure, Granger. Yours, too. Weren't you just telling me how lovely they are?"

"That was before I knew what they were!" Hermione roared. 

"Visie Maxima," Hermione cried, her wand pointed at the nearest cluster of Fae. 

Her vision zoomed in on the scene, and she could see now what she couldn't before; tiny, beautiful, little fairies; their faces contorted in pain from the blood-encrusted, iron-coated cords piercing their hands and stringing them together. Tears sprung to Hermione's eyes as she took in the scene. Just in this one little cluster, she could count more than thirty fairies.

"I demand that you release them!" Hermione hollered at her host, her voice trembling with rage. 

"No-can-do, Granger," Pansy relaxed in her chair, careless of Hermione's distress and the obvious discomfort of her other guests.

"And why not?" Hermione demanded, her magic coming to life in little vibrations around her body.

"The Hunter has a magic of his own. Only he can undo the spell — and he won't be doing that for the next few days. I fully intend to enjoy them for as long as I can before they are set free. Yes, Granger, _set free_. They don't die so easily. They will be taken back to Ireland and released back to their homes. No harm done."

"No harm done?" Hermione repeated, incredulous. Her voice shrill.

"No. Harm. Done," Pansy insisted, inspecting her fingernails.

"You're a monster! I can't believe that I ever thought I might actually be friends with you one day! Merlin knows that was never going to happen!"

"Granger, come on — let's get going. I wish you hadn't seen this, I wish _I_ hadn't seen it, but there really is nothing we can do until the Hunter returns," Draco was rubbing her arm, in an attempt to soothe her. It wasn't working.

"And you!" Hermione turned on him, "You just let me walk into this. How could you?"

"Hermione," Draco tried to reason with her, his voice low. "Let's just go home and —"

"I'm not going anywhere until the Fae are set free!" Hermione exclaimed. "Call your Hunter, Parkinson," she demanded, her wand held tightly in her hand.

"I will do no such thing, Granger. Just sit back down, and we can have dessert — Gally makes the most delicious Christmas pudding!"

Hysterical laughter bubbled up inside of Hermione. Blaise and Daphne exchanged glances with Theo, and slowly they started to gather themselves together, preparing to leave. Daphne took a moment to wipe her mouth delicately on the silk napkin. Hermione barely noticed their departure in her distress, and that damn glittering light in the corner was driving her mad. Hermione let her magic reach out, grip a corner, and pull. A veil came shattering down around her.

The temperature dropped, and the light dimmed. The previously ornate, golden and plush dining room was suddenly cold, dark and the only thing glittering was the blood dripping from the ceiling. The pretty Christmas baubles were replaced with severed animal heads

Hermione stumbled back in shock. What was this magic? It had been so strong, she had failed to sense it, failed to feel the vast difference between what she was seeing and what actually _was_. Pansy watched Hermione take in the scene with eyes that shimmered with malice. Draco gripped Hermione's hand in his and pulled her to him. 

"This was a cruel game to play, Parkinson. I hope you're satisfied," he hissed, leaving the room and tugging Hermione along with him.

Her eyes were still glued to the horrors that she had previously admired. She had known Pansy was dark, but this was nothing other than evil. Her mind reeled as Draco helped her stumble towards the exit.

All of the glamour and shine she had seen when they arrived was gone. The Manor was dark and dank; the Christmas cheer and warmth obliviated with the vision of the Fae writhing in pain. 

When they reached the door, Gally the House-Elf appeared to hand them back their coats and gloves. Hermione stared down at the little Elf and choked back a sob. No wonder his ears drooped, he was still clothed in the humble, dirty pillowcase of the enslaved, his fingers heavily bandaged and a long gash seeping and oozing on his face. Hermione dropped to her knees, eager to help heal the Elf, but he shied away from her touch and vanished with a click of his fingers. Hermione let the sob out and was wracked with several more. 

Somehow, Draco managed to bundle her back into her coat, gloves and scarf. He carried her down the winding pebble drive and out through the spiked gate, Disapparating them to their safe, warm, and comforting home. 

It was a long while before Hermione found her feet again. Gradually, she pulled herself up and stared at her fiancé — and if looks could kill.

"I tried to warn you, Granger— "

"Oh, do not play that card with me, Malfoy. You gave me absolutely no clue what we were walking into!"

"I — I didn't know it would be that bad. Really, Hermione, I didn't. Until you tore down the veil, I had never seen the Manor like that. Never to that extent. The Fae I knew about, but the rest — the rest was darker than I ever imagined. Believe me, Granger, please. I had no idea it would be that bad. I think it's finally time to sever any relationship with Pansy. I knew she hadn't reformed, but Merlin — I, I think. She's lost it, Granger. I think she's actually lost it."

"We need to report her — immediately. I'm writing to Harry and Kingsley right this moment. I don't care if it's Christmas Eve, that witch will be brought to justice."

Draco didn't reply, just nodded quickly in understanding and _Accio'd_ some parchment, a quill and an inkpot for Hermione's use. 

"You get those letters written. I'm going to try to Floo call with the others, see if they had any idea."

Hermione swiped at her face, her Muggle makeup smudged and running, but she paid it no mind. Dipping her quill in the ink, she got to work.

Within two hours, Hermione had started a chain of events. Contacting both Harry and the Minister for Magic had resulted in a raid on the Parkinson Manor. Harry had briefly contacted Hermione to tell her that they had uncovered more than a few disturbing pieces of dark magic and artefacts that had been missing since well before the First Wizarding War. What they hadn't uncovered was Pansy herself. The witch had disappeared, her wardrobe cleaned out and the house abandoned in the time it took for Harry and a team of Aurors to arrive on the scene. 

Harry advised Draco and Hermione to add extra wards to their home, in case Pansy tried to contact them there. With a sad smile, he wished them a Merry Christmas and said goodnight.

"We should try to get some rest," Draco advised, his voice soft.

"I don't think I could ever sleep again," Hermione confessed, turning into his embrace. 

Draco brushed the tangle of curls away from her face and held her close. "I'll get you some dreamless sleep potion, alright?"

Hermione nodded against his chest, releasing him to rummage through the potion stores while she went to shower the events of the evening away. Washing the horrors down the drain with a swirl of ruined makeup. 

Feeling clean, but in no way cleansed, Hermione slipped into her favourite pyjamas and under the covers of their soft bed. Draco handed her a small vial of the purple potion, and Hermione gratefully accepted.

* * *

Hermione woke up in the late morning sun, feeling well-rested, but with a sense of unease stealing over her. She reached out for Draco, but the sheets beside her were empty. Silently, she reached for her wand and padded to the bathroom. Finding it empty, she wandered through the rest of the house cautiously, searching for her fiancé. 

She found him in the back garden, a warm, heavy blanket wrapped around him and a small fire hovering at his feet. He looked up from his book as she approached. 

"Good morning, love. How did you sleep?" Draco asked her sweetly, picking up a small cup of coffee. Espresso, she knew — it was his _second_ favourite morning pick-me-up.

"Good, I guess, given the events of last night."

Draco looked at her, puzzled. He set his coffee back down. "What events?"

Hermione stared at him incredulously. "Pansy's house; the dinner, the Elves, the _Fairies_ ," she reminded him with a hiss.

Draco scrunched his face up in confusion. It would have been adorable if not for the circumstances. "Shit," he said. "It's Christmas Eve, we need to go to Pansy's house tonight. Are you alright, Granger? I think you might have had a bad dream."

"I— it's only Christmas Eve? Today is Christmas Eve, not Christmas Day?" Hermione asked, plonking herself down on the seat next to him.

Draco made an impatient sound under his breath. "You'll catch your death, Granger. _Engorgio_ ," he pointed his wand at the flame. It grew big enough to warm them both. "It's definitely only Christmas Eve," he confirmed. 

"So last night, we didn't go to Pansy's manor, we didn't witness the gruesome torture of magical creatures, and we didn't discover that your ex-girlfriend is some kind of sociopath?"

Draco whistled in a quiet oath. "That was some dream, Granger. Pansy's no saint, but that sure as shit didn't happen, no. I think we will have to monitor your brandy intake in the future. That definitely classifies as a nightmare. Are you alright?"

"I think I'm just going to make a coffee. I need a moment," she replied. The weight fell off her shoulders as she accepted the truth for what it was — nothing but a bad dream. Her mind cleared, and her spirits were light again as she got up and made her way back inside the warm house. 

Pushing against the glass door, a small movement caught her eye. Hermione felt the colour drain from her face. There, hovering just above her and to the right was a Fairy. Dangling from each of its hands was a tiny, iron-coated rope. Blood dripped from the wounds as it hissed at her.


End file.
